


Q

by BlackMorgan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Skyfall, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMorgan/pseuds/BlackMorgan
Summary: Yes, the sex is great. But this hasn't been just about sex for some time. Time with Q is precious and it's something Bond realises, he is no longer prepared to waste.





	Q

There are little lines at the corner of Q’s eyes, tiny creases that have sprung up when James wasn’t looking. They have caught him off guard, as the years have too. So many of them spent apart, each farewell a risk that this embrace they share will be their last.

 

Yet here they are still, a little more world weary, a little more ragged. Or at least James is. Q still doesn’t look a day over thirty, but for those faint lines around his eyes, which crinkle when he smiles. He’s smiling now, laughing almost, as James nips at his belly, the inside of his thighs. Q is ticklish, terribly so, and James loves to see how far he can push his boffin until squirming becomes writhing, the laughter throaty moans of pleasure.

 

They are about there now. James has flipped Q onto his stomach and set his mouth a finger’s breadth from Q’s hole, nipping at the crease where his arse meets the backs of his thighs. For a man who craves the constant shift of change to feel alive, it’s both a wonder and a mystery to him that five years after the fateful day Q first put a gun and a watch in his hand, and sent him after Silva, that they are still sharing a bed. No, sharing a life.

 

“What?” Q is getting impatient, wondering why James has paused.

 

He looks over his shoulder at his lover, pupils blown wide and dark with desire and slides back on his stomach, spreading his long legs wide and raising his arse towards James’s face.

 

“Stop thinking. I’m not going anywhere.” Q reaches back to stroke the erection hanging heavily between his own thighs. “But this will if you don’t hurry up and do something!”

 

Bossy Q is James’s favourite. It snaps him out of his reverie, draws a grin on his face and with a smug, “Yes, Sir,” he bends his head to the task of tonguing Q’s hole until he comes untouched. It’s something Q’s rather good at, coming from anal stimulation alone. If James had known that little fact when they first met, he would have devoted far more time to teasing Q’s arse with subtle touches through his clothes, while Q was trapped against his desk. James is certain Q has kept some of the incriminating security footage he promised to erase and it’s going to come back and haunt them in M’s office one day.

 

But that’s the furthest thing from his mind now, with a beautiful young man writhing beneath him, crying out his name as he comes. Q’s loud and messy, so different from the buttoned up boy he set out to seduce after Skyfall. In so many ways, Q’s the reason he’s still alive.

 

Before Q’s aftershocks subside, James lines himself up and presses inside. It’s always this first breach, feeling Q’s softest parts drawing him in, which he loves best. He tried to describe it to Q once and couldn’t, so the next time they made love, he asked Q to fuck him instead. It’s not something James especially enjoys, he prefers to do the fucking and Q loves being fucked, but it was worth it to see Q’s face and the sudden understanding fill his eyes.

 

This is better though. Watching himself thrusting into Q’s heat, watching Q’s arsehole clenching tight, over stimulated from one orgasm already but still chasing a second if James would just angle his dick right. James rolls his hips, shortening his thrusts until he knows he must be rubbing Q’s prostate just right because suddenly there’s an explosion beneath him and his own climax is being pulled from him as Q spasms around him, clenching helplessly and crying out while James fills him so full inside.

 

As they both come down from the high James is reluctant to pull out, but he’s already softening and his come is leaking out of Q’s arse onto the sheets. Q’s a stickler for not sleeping on the wet spot, though James doesn’t mind. He finds an odd intimacy to it, the evidence of pleasure well spent, a tangible sort of proof they’ve made it this far despite the odds, that they’re both still alive.

 

He pulls out carefully, leans forward and kisses Q’s shoulder, wanting to stay draped over his lover’s slender body. This time Q doesn’t complain. He’s already half asleep. That second orgasm has left him pliant and agreeable. Later, when they wake, he’ll likely curse and grumble about the dried come sticking to his skin, and James will run him a bath, wash his hair and perhaps indulge him with a shave.

 

This is what five years of loving another human being makes you appreciate; that there’s not enough time to savour all the details. He hasn’t told Q yet, that he left a letter on M’s desk yesterday requesting a short sabbatical. There’s something he wants Q to see. A surprise.

 

It’s a small villa with a winding drive that sits atop the cliff in Positano, overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. The wind rises in the afternoons with the ocean swells, taking the heat from the stones and cooling the garden below. It’s the perfect little sanctuary to escape from London’s hectic pace, and now it’s theirs. The key James has sealed in an envelope with a card, which he will give to Q when they arrive.

 

This is his promise. He’s telling Q they have a future together. In fact, they have the whole of their lives.

 

 

 

This is the view I imagine they have from the villa.

**Author's Note:**

> [ **On Tumblr**](http://blackmorgan.tumblr.com/post/169978121228/ugh-what-am-i-doing-i-have-a-book-to-edit-and)


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